Anyhow Dancing
by Firemoon
Summary: Rain. Outside. Forest. Annoying manifestation of the Earl's apparent masochism in form of a talking umbrella. Tyki's mission out couldn't get any worse. Tyki x smushed!Jasdero. Rated M for implications.


**Summary**/ Tykific!challenge. In which Tyki broods and it rains. Oh, and Lelo!torture.

**Pairing**/ Tyki x smushed!Jasdebi.

**Rating**/ R.

**Prompt**/ "Lelo's other uses". –gigglesnort-

**Disclaimer/** I don't own D.Gray-Man or any of its characters, nor do I own any of E. E. Cummings' poems because my brain is too feeble even to produce punctuations for him.

**Anyhow Dancing**

_"& everything is easier_

_than I had guessed everything would_

_be;even remembering the way who_

_looked at whom first,anyhow dancing"_

_-E. E. Cummings._

Sometimes, Tyki wonders if Lelo is a by-product of one of the Earl's bursts of masochism. A talking umbrella isn't such a good company when he is tracking down a group of exorcists-finders in the middle of a forest so vast he can't see the end of it.

"We have to _hurry_-lelo. Earl-tama _told_ you to be _quick_-lelo." "Shut up." He replies automatically, flinging the head of the fish at the umbrella and picking out the bones from between his teeth. The fire flickers at the gust of wind and Tyki swears under his breath, briefly wondering if the umbrella was any good as a bit of extra firewood; everything was damp here, still drizzling fine mist of rain.

The umbrella's whining –the Earl was _definitely_ a masochist, creating something like _this_—blends into the background noise as he lights up a cigarette, the smoky trail ring lasting till about the first branch of the tree they're hiding out under before dissipating into the air.

"Still eating like a com_ple_te barbarian, I see." Tyki knows that voices anywhere, a curious echorumble blending together into one, and he simply smiles his almost-smirk, blowing another ring of smoke and tapping the ash away dangerously close to the umbrella, a burst of '_lelo_'s and '_fire_' making his lips twitch again. Maybe he _could_ use it as firewood, after all...

--Later, this day comes back to him and Tyki laughs, earning a curious look from Road, because _god_,he must have been so _bored_. As much as he wanted to shove Lelo into the burning pit of fire,a pair of trigger-happy twins –even though, _technically_ they weren't _really_ twins right now—_weren't _very high on his list either.

But then, _they_ must have been bored too. He wasn't camping out here in the middle of a jungle-forest for _nothing_.

With a bit of help, they manage to get the fire going –for once Tyki appreciates the twins' vast store of imagination; after all, his experiences with it had been, previously, less than thrillingly pleasant—and crouch down wordlessly around it. Tyki cautiously holds his jacket out in front of the fire; it had been serving as a shield for the previous fire against the rain, and his forearms are dotted with goosebumps that he can feel even through the silken white gloves when he swipe the palm of his hand across the skin.

Curious silvergolden eyes –the eyelinermascarakohl just a little bit smudged from the rain, but that only made his eyes look even bigger than they already were--flicker acrossover to him then back again, and if Tyki had blinked then, he would have missed it.

He hadn't.

"Wha'cha doing here, anyway?" The Noah carefully feels the jacket –still some wet patches here and there, but it was warm and dry enough now—and nonchalantly asks, stretching out his legs in front of him and staring across the fire; the silvergolden eyes take a reddish hue as the twins gaze resolutely into the fire and Tyki grins, aware of the reflection burning in _his_ as burnished tawny goldenyellow. "Nothing."

A raised eyebrow, a hand pausing halfway on its way to his breast pocket where the cigarettes are. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Right." The other's voice is no more than a murmur, lacking that definite, almost fanatical sort of conviction that always seeps through each and every word.

He is about to prodcreepslide more, a million more questions on his lips already, enough to make that sliverest hint of a crack widen, multiply, when—

There's a rumbleburst of thunder, then a blinding flash of lightning, striking a tree somewhere in the forest. Quite nearby them, too. The forest is suddenly full of sharp cries of alarm and distress, seemingly echoed out to bigger proportions by the tree leaves rustling around them. The rain has, with it, gotten heavier also. Within minutes they are soaked to the bone, and, despite their attempts at it and Tyki even relinquishing his hard-earn dry jacket again, the fire goes out.

"Fuck," Jasdebi hisses, voice deeperdarker slightslightly and with a _hint_ more of that usual violentred just _tinging_ the edge of his words, and Tyki knows before he sees the dark swirls curling in deeperangrierannoyed around the crown of straw-blond hair to realise that, Debitto was _it_ at the moment. The Noah hisses under his breath, words quickly mumbled out –hardly audible, but, even if he had, Tyki doubted if it was intended for him to hear, anyway—and reaches out to grab Lelo, the pumpkin letting out a squeak of terror and protest that seems to add to the general mayhem.

It's a chaos, and he is fairly sure that the exorcists are camped out in a cave somewhere near here –he, despite what the umbrella said, _had_ been doing his job properly—and while they would not pay particular attention to the noises of animals and birds, Tyki isn't quite sure if the rising volume of Jasdebi's voice –most of it highlow shriekingswearingyelling_fuck_—or the decidedly un-nature-like squealing of the umbrella –_I'll-tell-Earl-tama-lelo!_—will go unnoticed by them, either.

A handful of blondstreaky hair and Tyki pushes forward, the sudden spreadfeel of warmth againstbelow him feels almost like the sound wheezegust of breath being forced out of Jasdebi's lungs. Tyki dimly hears the umbrella –Jasdebi having thrown it across the little clearing at a thick oak tree right before the moment of impact—thudding against the ground and letting out another burst of complaints, but right now, that's the furthest thought from his mind.

The rain is pouring down, plastering the blond and dark hairs against scalpsfaceslipseyes and their fingershands are slickcold against each other's skinbodyeverywhereanywhere, on the shimmerwetsheen of Jasdebi's coat and on the wet shirt clinging to Tyki's back, the former trying to push Tyki off –get_off_meyou_fuckingbastard_gaaaah—and the latter, just holdinggrabbing onto whateveranything he could find and for_god'ssake_shut_up_—

None of them are sure when it changed, when the chappedcracked lips crashed against the softer ones of Tyki's, but it was so _different_, the feel of lips that weren't _his own_ and Jasdebi's fingershands scratch against the other's neck as he pulls Tyki _down_, and _then_ it wasn't so different anymore they were the _same_, the same sort of bloodytangyreddishtinged taste –with a hint of fish, and the twins grimace slightly before everything just meltsblends again—and they were the _same_.

This form is taller, Tyki realises in a vague, blurry sort of way—because things were going _too fast_ and _not fast enough_ for him to keep track of, and he's not even sure if he _wants_ to think— as sharphandsfingersnails claw down his back, lips pressingpressed against the junction of neck and shoulders and his lips quirk up slightly before finding the shell of one ear –delicatetannedskin like his peeking out from the blond fall of hair—and he could feel the distinct _hitch_ of breath, and everything is so _fine_ and _perfect_ it's so very, very _good_, even with the rain pouring down and making sludgy muck under them.

Jasdebi's clothes –shiningslickshimmering with the rain water gleaming off it—sticks to his skin and Tyki growls for a moment, goldeneyes narrowing slightly, and instead of strugglingwriggling out of it –even though hethey could feel the needwantdrive burning hotwhite inside them, sizzling away all the coldwetrain—Jasdebi just throws back his head and laughs, a surprisingly clear sound so very unlike the _usual_ angerannoyancefrustration of the twins that Tyki just leans down and presses his mouth against the open lips, laughter gurglingdyingdown into a wordless murmur, a growl, and that was _better_ even better this was _good_.

Then

Then finally the stickywetclingingfabricclothes are sortofgone and the fingershandsmouths are meeting warmth of burninghotflesh and it was a wonder how _hot_ it got all of a sudden but hethey neither of them really don'tminddoesn'tnotatall when Jasdebi lifts his hips up and the rest of the materialvinyl is peeledoff pusheddown and the rest is just mixmatchjumblechaos of _sliiiiide_moangaspgrowlhissclawscratchbite_ ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod—_

A foot nudges the side of his hip –a cruel prodkick, meant to _hurt_, and not just to get attention—and Tyki groggily turns over, groping about until he finds an ankle, wraps his fingers around it and _tugs_. He is rewarded by a shrill sound of '_Aaagh!_' and another, slightly deeper voice of '_I'll kill you!_' mixed in with squeaky incessant noise of the umbrella.

"Come _on_-_lelo_, you wasted enough time _already_ doing _that_ with hi—_ack!_" Tyki has to hide the grin as he sits up slowly, goldengaze narrowing slightly at the flashes of brightness that shines occasionally through the tree branches. Debitto –a gun still clutched in one hand, but thankfully momentarily distracted with repeatedly using Lelo as a kicking-target—hardly glances at him, but he can feel the curiouswondering gaze again lingering on his face before Jasdero sort of ducks his head and dashes off to join his twin in trampling the umbrella to the ground.

He could swear he heard something _cracking_, and he just chuckles.


End file.
